Today is my anniversary. My husband and I have been married fifteen years, and we dated for four years before tying the knot. That is a long time to spend with someone! Depending on the day, I will tell you that it has gone by very quickly and I have been very happy, or I have been dragged through the pits of hell. Like I said, it depends on the day.
After about ten years of marriage, we pretty much stopped fighting. Don't get me wrong—there are still times when we have brief arguments, but we haven't had a serious fight in a very, very, long time. It seems that most of our disagreements are carried out in silent, covert operations.
The Battle of the "Holders"
My husband has a "thing" about "holders," as he calls them. By this I mean toilet paper holders and paper towel holders. By a thing, I mean he hates them. So, that means he would rather have the toilet paper sitting on top of the toilet, and the paper towels on top of counter, unanchored. I, on the other hand, like these holders, mainly because I have as much coordination as a one-winged bee. I can't begin to tell you how many times rolls of toilet paper have ended up in the toilet, or how many times I have knocked over the paper towels and watched it unroll across the living room. That is where our battles are fought. When I go into the bathroom, I put the toilet paper on a holder. When I return, it is off. If the paper towel holder is empty, my husband will set a roll right next to it, but refuses to put it in the holder. I have knocked over the unanchored roll of paper towels, watched it roll across the room, and left the house, knowing that my husband would find it and have to clean it up.
The Dishwasher I'm not totally innocent when it comes to idiosyncrasies. One of my biggest pet peeves is the way the dishwasher is loaded. You would think I would be happy just to have someone to do the dishes for me, but I get very uncomfortable when I watch someone load the dishwasher differently than me. Because of this, I load the dishes, and unloading falls to my husband.
You would think this would be an easy arrangement. Wrong. My husband often waits days before unloading. I used to either nag him about it, or do it myself. That stopped about five years ago, and the clandestine war began. I will let the dishes pile up without a word to him about unloading the dishwasher. At times it gets to the point where we no long have silverware or glasses, and yet, I say nothing. I have served dinner without a clean fork in sight. It is only when it affects him that he realizes he hasn't done his job. We never say anything about this secret battle of wills, and sometimes I wonder if he enjoys it as much as I do. As stupid as it sounds, I get a lot of satisfaction when I put the toilet paper back in its holder, knowing that it is going to drive him nuts. Do you and your significant husband have secret battles? If so let us know about them in the comments!
About the Author: Carly Fall is a wife, a mother, and slave to the dog Nicky. She loves to laugh, thinks chocolate and wine should be considered their own food group, and Christmas should happen twice a year. A wild imagination and the voices in her head force her to spend hours in front of the computer writing hot romance with happy endings.
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Book - Chica Bella Blurb
Landon “Blackhawk” Walker is ready to get out of the Navy SEALs. He has seen and done enough, and can’t wait to get to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico where three tasks await him: get back into civilian mode, take a boat out to the El Arco Rocks, and win back the heart of the woman he lost because of his career. Maya Gonzalez has tired of the heartbreak that comes with Landon’s deployments year after year. When he walks back into her life again, she cannot deny her heart, despite her reservations. As they lose themselves in each other and the beauty of Cabo their passion is rekindled once again. Maya knows that one phone call means deployment for Landon, putting an end to their reunion, and possibly their relationship.
“Where were you?” she finally asked, her voice quiet.
“Afghanistan.” He didn’t look at her, but he felt her body tense next to his.
“Were you hurt?” He shrugged, but then thought better of trying to blow off her questions. Maya had always said she wanted nothing but honesty from him, and he had been the one to offer this Q&A.
“I took some shrapnel in my chest, but it was all superficial.” He gazed down at her as she studied his chest as if she could see the wounds he was talking about.
“Did you kill?” she whispered, her stare never leaving his chest.
Dammit. This was the part he hated because she abhorred violence, but killing was his job. If he didn’t take out the bad guys, they would kill American soldiers, and he would be damned if that happened on his watch.
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Did you think of me?”
“Oh, God, Maya.” He put his finger under her chin and turned her face to his. Her brown eyes sparkled with tears that made his heart feel as though it might quit beating. “Maya, it’s always you. It’s thinking of you that made me want to stay alive. It’s the thought of your smile, your face, your body pressed up against mine that kept me warm at night, the sound of your laughter that made me smile when I felt like I couldn’t smile again. Maya….” He didn’t know what else to say, so he did what he had wanted to do since the day he left her almost a year ago. He brought his lips to hers.